I raised the knife and slashed her throat. Amy’s eyes widened in shock as she gasped for air, clutching at her neck. Blood poured from the wound as she collapsed.
The room was silent except for my heavy breathing. The smell of blood filled the air, thick and overwhelming. I stared down at their bodies, my heart pounding. It was over.
But even as I stood there, I knew it wasn’t the end. I had crossed a line, and there would be no turning back. The police would come, and I would face the consequences. But for the first time in months, I didn’t care.
The door burst open, and a nurse screamed when she saw the scene. "Call the police!" someone shouted behind her.
I turned to the window, the cool breeze hitting my face as I stared out at the city. There was no place for me here anymore. Nothing left but pain and loss.
With one last glance at the mess I had made, I stepped onto the windowsill. A familiar male’s voice echoed in my mind one last time, but it felt far away, like a distant memory.
And then, I jumped.
Tick-tock.
I opened my eyes, feeling hot and uncomfortable.
"Brother, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know she was allergic to mangoes..." Amy’s voice came through, her tone fake and whiny.